One More Night #1 Setting the Stage

It was a summer night when Bill walked into his kitchen to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Bill wasn’t particularly hungry, but one of his only vices was eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I’ll admit, it’s a bit of an odd vice for a grown man to have, but at least it’s not heroine. Anyway, once Bill made it into his kitchen, he noticed a young man sitting at his table looking somewhat, what’s the word…mopey? Yeah, let’s go with mopey.

Bill recognized the mopey teenager as Robby, one of Jacob’s friends. It’s probably worth mentioning that Jacob was Bill’s younger brother that just graduated high school. Also, the reason that Robby was there in Bill’s kitchen was because Jacob had some of his friends over for an all nighter which consisted of various activities including video games, stories, poker, jokes, arguments, wrestling and so on. At some point Robby was feeling mopey and decided to sit at the kitchen table, while the rest of his friends were downstairs playing video games. I think that more or less sets the stage.

As a writer, I get lazy every now and then and prefer telling as opposed to showing. I also think that some writers become self-indulgent when they decide to show instead of tell. I’ll never forget reading John Steinbeck’s The Pearl in 7th grade, and being bored when he took his time to describe the weather when all he had to say was “it was a windy day.” However, I do acknowledge the irony of me taking an entire paragraph to complain about other writers being self-indulgent, instead of telling the story at hand. Speaking of which…

Bill was debating about whether to ask Robby "what's wrong," or to quietly go back to his room, to avoid having to talk to Robby altogether. In the end, Bill was overcome with compassion for his fellow man.

“Hey champ! What’s goin on?” Bill asked Robby.

“Nothing. Just thinking.” said Robby.

“What about?” said Bill.

“Uh, life in general I suppose.” said Robby unconvincingly.

“It looks like life in general is rather upsetting. Are you ok?” asked Bill.

“It’s…there’s a um…it’s nothing worth mentioning.” Robby mumbled.

“Why don’t ya mention it anyway? You’re gonna be here all night after all. So, let’s have it.” Bill locked eyes Robby and held his gaze until Robby looked away in acquisition.

“Well, there’s this girl,” Robby began.

“Of course, it’s a girl!” Bill exclaimed with a somewhat mocking exasperation. Robby shot Bill an injured look. “I’m just mean that we’ve all been there.” Bill recovered. Robby’s face relaxed. “Tell me about her.”

“She…well…I don’t know where to start.” said Robby.

“I’ve always found that the beginning is oftentimes the best place to start.” Bill said, trying to move things along.

“Okay,” Robby began, “the thing about her is…” and Robby spent a good half a hour describing a series of events and giving reasons and explaining nuance, and dare I say, feelings. Then Robby ended with “…and she’s leaving for college this fall.”

You didn’t really think I was going to expose the inner workings of the male mind, did you? I’m all for telling a relatively compelling fictional story, but not all of Cockatoo’s readers are men, and I’d rather have my readers slightly disappointed, than potentially giving women the drop on the thoughts and feelings of men. Men can more or less imagine what Robby said, and for the women, just think about something you saw on the Hallmark Channel to satisfy your curiosity. Is the Hallmark Channel still a thing? I haven’t watch cable in years.

Billed scratched behind his left ear. “Did you tell her any of this?”

“No.” said Robby.

“Why not?” asked Bill.

“I don’t know,” Robby said, “it’s too late anyway.”

“What did you say her name was?” Bill asked.

“Joyce. Joyce Reynolds. Why do ask?” Robby looked confused.

“Robby, put on your jacket and wait for me by my car.” Bill went to the fridge and took out a jar of strawberry jam.

“Why?” asked Robby.

“We’re gonna go find Joyce Reynolds so that you can have a talk with her.” Bill replied with a matter-of-fact tone while grabbing a large container of peanut butter out of a cabinet.

“No, I don’t want to do that!” Robby exclaimed.

“Robby,” Bill said as he turned towards the squeamish teenager while spreading jam on a slice of bread, “you don’t have a choice. I’m gonna have a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich, after which you and I are going to buckle up and find the girl you mentioned.”

“What if I refuse?” Robby countered, lacking conviction.

“Robby,” said Bill, “you can sit next to me in the car, or you can sit in my trunk. Either way, you’re coming with me to find Joyce so you can talk to her.” Bill finished making his sandwich as Robby stared at him, trying to determine if he was being serious. Bill took a bite of his sandwich and motioned Robby out of the kitchen. After Robby left the kitchen, he grabbed his jacket and went outside to wait next to Bill’s car.

(check out the audio version of this digital story at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tuf3GxbX85U )

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Story by Tom Klingenfuss